


The Life and Times of South Asia

by destroyallmonsters, godcomplexfics (godtiercomplex)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 9,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destroyallmonsters/pseuds/destroyallmonsters, https://archiveofourown.org/users/godtiercomplex/pseuds/godcomplexfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles centered around ask prompts to the aphsouthasia blog! </p><p>Prompts range from quirky to sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt: I don't need you either

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niral and Tashi have a talk.
> 
>  
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here. ](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/135511890783/3-i-dont-need-you-either)
> 
> This is unbeta'd and might forever remain that way. This was a hard prompt to do for sheer fact that Niral is hard to write still.

 

“I don’t need you to tell me what I can and cannot do with my international policies, Nalin,” Niral said quietly. Nalin looked hurt, and started to protest, but they looked away from him, and walked away. That was earlier that day.

Now, they hadn’t moved in hours. Niral stared at their hands, and could see the roughness of working in the field reflected in them. They were in mourning, a quiet mourning for what has been lost, and what won’t come back. Life was hard, but not unbearable. They had survived this long. They would keep surviving.

* * *

 

Tashi came back from milking the cow, and settled down on the floor opposite them. He sat in silence, and they did as well. Tashi had this way of just knowing when something was wrong, and always showed up as if summoned. Such was the connection between them, but, Niral wanted no more connections. They wanted to be free.

“You know, I don’t need you either,” they said. Tashi made no reply, and they wondered if they hurt him. They had hurt Nalin when they said that before at the meeting. But Nalin was always meddling and sticking his nose into business that didn’t concern him. It was annoying. “I don’t need this family.”

“You do,” Tashi said at last. Niral was laying down on the floor, and Tashi was beside them, and he has always been beside them, hasn’t he? “You shouldn’t be so unnecessarily cruel to Nalin, Niral.”

“And you shouldn’t be so codependent on him.” Spitefully said, but true.

Tashi looked hurt for a moment, before sighing, “I’m not.” A quiet voice, and his fists were loose in his lap, but they were still fists. Niral had broken his calm. They felt validated. If they must hurt, then others must hurt too.

“You are.”

“Then why am I here with you and not him?” Tashi continued, “Why did I follow you instead of running after him, if I truly am codependent?”

“Because you want me to apologize.”

“I want for the fighting to stop. Aren’t you tired of it too, Niral?” Tashi’s voice was his gentle voice, the one he used to talk Nalin down from the edge. Niral hated that voice.

“Don’t treat me like Nalin.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I’m not someone you can tame with a gentle voice or a hard look, Tashi. I’m me, and I have a right to express my opinion even if Nalin would rather not hear it. Sometimes the truth hurts.” They stopped talking, feeling exhausted by having spoken so much of the truth. But this was Tashi, and regardless, he would understand, even as much as he didn’t understand.

“But it wasn’t the truth,” Tashi said, “you still need Nalin even as much as you’d rather not. I’m not saying that you need to apologize, but you do need to be more honest with yourself.”

They scowled, “I am being honest, but you’d rather not hear this.”

“I’m listening,” he said, and held his palms out and took one of their hands. “Speak your mind.”

So they did. It all came pouring out in disjointed sentences, and harsh words. Tashi was silent and just let them speak for once. This was the Tashi they liked, the one who listened without judging or speaking. The Tashi who lectured Nalin and tried to preach to him was not the Tashi that Niral needed. They needed their brother to just be something different than the self he showed off to Nalin and the self he showed off to the others. But most importantly, “I need you to take my side in this. He would isolate us if he could.”

“I understand,” Tashi said and squeezed their hand. “But he’s honestly trying to get better, you know he is.”

Niral just sat up, and Tashi dropped their hand.

“You know you shouldn’t take up for him so much. He can stand on his own.”

“But should he have to?” Tashi asked, “Should you have to?”

Niral thought about that. They wanted to stand on their own, prove their own worth as a nation and as a person. They didn’t want to depend on anyone anymore for anything. But that wasn’t true was it? Even now, they weren’t alone. Tashi was there as he always had been before. He had chosen them over Nalin, even if it was just this once.

“No one is alone, not really,” they settled on saying, “but, we need room to grow. Nalin doesn’t understand that.”

“Then make him understand,” Tashi said, “of all of us, you can do that the best.”

“And not you?”

“No,” Tashi said, “After all, I’m far too close to the situation for him to listen to me about this.”

And Niral knew that he was right.


	2. Prompt: IndiaxIran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nalin and Fairuza have a bit of a talk.
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a bit of an age gap between Nalin and Fairuza so warning for that. I actually intend on writing about Nalin’s relationships with all his ‘ancient’ lovers one day. Consider this a snippet from that larger piece.
> 
>  
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/137915410028/indiaxiran-fic)

Summary: Nalin and Fairuza have a bit of a talk.

The meeting was going like all meetings went, which largely meant: that America was making a fool out of himself, that Aa–Akmal was being a pest and flirting with Yao, and that he had decided to retreat from it all by having a smoke out on the balcony. Ivan was somewhere, and Kasem was somewhere else, and even Kiku, recluse as he were, was busy. That meant that Nalin was alone as he so rarely liked being at these meetings until someone joined him.

Well, he could find Tashi, gods knew his brother would be welcome company, but Tashi and Niral had disappeared somewhere to discuss borders and immigrants and really, Nalin was trying to stay out of it for once. Emran would also be a good distraction, but then Emran would probably want to discuss borders again, and Nalin would have to scold him, and for once Nalin didn’t feel like scolding anyone. He was in a reasonable mood and didn’t want to spoil it. Afia was mad about what Akmal had said (his little sibling was such a pest), and Keshini was mad at him about his reply to Akmal in defense of Afia. Sana was not taking sides, but Sana’s side always leaned towards Keshini so he knew that he was looking at a disappointed face if he were to bother her.

He could, of course, find someone else to bother, one of his European allies, but he didn’t feel like giving any of them true evidence of the discord that was still lingering on in the South Asian family. Allies were just allies and he didn’t trust them any further than he could throw them, and that meant a lot. So, standing around smoking and thinking to himself would have to do it.

He was starting on his second cigarette of the break when Fairuza neatly took it from his fingers, and put it into her own mouth. She pulled the smoke in, and then exhaled it neatly through her nose. Honestly, where had she come from? Keshini had probably sent her, if he were to be honest with himself.

“Why are you brooding, dearest?” she asked.

“I’m not,” he said in reply as he took his cigarette back from her. To be polite he offered her another one from the box. She took it. He held his face steady as she lit her cigarette from his instead of using the lighter.

“You’re muttering to yourself and smoking,” Fairuza offered up like evidence, and he had to give her points for that. Her black and white checkered hijab was the twin of her checkered skirt. The black shirt and jacket on top were also nice. When he was done checking her out, she had a single perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “You’re brooding.”

“Well, I can hardly be doing that now that you’re here, can I?” Nalin teased, shaking off the cobwebs and faking a grin her way. She saw right through him as only his nearest and dearest could.

“Don’t bullshit me, Nalin,” she said quickly. He groaned underneath his breath while she tucked her arm into his neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing major,” he said carefully, “The fight between Afia and Akmal has me ill at ease is all.” A pinch to his waist for that half truth had him groaning out loud. “What?”

“Don’t lie to me, you know how I hate that.”

“You hate a lot of things I do, it’s any wonder we’re able to be around each other.”

“For as much as I dislike about you, I love you more. Now, what’s really wrong, you absolutely silly man?”

Nalin sighed, and waved the hand holding his cigarette around, “Akmal and Afia, honestly, that’s what’s wrong. I wish I knew a way to make them stop fighting.”

“You say that like it’s something you can do. You know it’s not up to you.”

“I still feel–” responsible “–as if it were.”

Fairuza looked over at him (and honestly when had the young girl trailing in Persia’s wake grown as tall as him?) and sighed. She bumped her hip up against his, and said, “It’s not your responsibility, not anymore at least. They might be children yet, but they are their own countries now. Independent as it were.”

“That doesn’t stop you from bullying Afia into attending parties and the like. What makes this any different?”

“You can’t bully them into getting along, especially when you have a noted preference for one of them over the other.”

“I do not–”

“Who do you think you’re fooling?”

“Obviously not you,” Nalin said, taking a deep pull of his cigarette. Fairuza put hers out on the ledge and tossed it over. He almost said something about littering, but decided he didn’t care about America enough for all of that. New York City did have a certain feel to it though that reminded him of home.

“Something is bothering you.”

He aimed a look sideways, and raised an eyebrow, “Someone is bothering me now, yes.”

Another pinch to his waist, and he sighed before putting out his own cigarette. He checked the time, and yes it was almost time for the meeting to start up again.

“Akmal was in the wrong and he should apologize. Saying as much got me in trouble with half of my siblings, and the other half are politely staying out of it. And now you’re telling me I have a preference as if it were as simple as that.”

“You always did treat Afia nicer than Akmal.”

“And you treated Akmal nicer than Afia.”

“Someone had to,” Fairuza said, “Because Allah knows you wouldn’t.”

It was an old fight, and Nalin knew how it would end. Or how it would typically end if they had time. But for now, he dropped a kiss on her cheek, and said carefully, “I treat him all right now, don’t I? Thank you for checking in on me, but I’m fine. I will apologize to Akmal, I suppose, and get Keshini off my back.”

“You’re going to apologize to Akmal?” Fairuza dubiously asked.

Nalin just shrugged, “New year, new me.”

Fairuza hummed, and then pulled away but not before slipping something into his pocket. Her room key he was sure. Her way of apologizing as it were.

“You may tell my sister that I’ll even apologize to her.”

“Keshini didn’t send me.”  Fairuza left it at that, and turned on her heel and went back inside the hotel. Nalin pulled out a fresh cigarette. He could afford to be late to the meeting.


	3. Prompt: Are you spying on me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Nalin have a bit of a debate.
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited when I saw this prompt because I knew exactly what I wanted to write and it came pouring out of me. 
> 
> Consider this a snippet from a future scene I’ll write in Patience. For now enjoy two bitter old men.
> 
>  
> 
> [Originally posted here!](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/138888271998/for-the-prompt-thing-are-you-spying-on-me)

“Are you _spying_ on me?” Nalin asks when Arthur comes round for tea one late fall day in the early 19th century. Aahan is locked up in his room and refusing to come down. Aahan doesn’t understand that they must present a show of strength to the British. They are India, together, united. Divided they will fall. Divided they will suffer.  

“That’s a nice greeting.”

Servants, not his, handpicked by the British government, take Arthur’s coat and hat. Nalin pointedly waits until Arthur takes off his shoes as well before giving him a proper, sarcastic, “Nice to see you, Arthur.”

“It’s nice to see you as well, Nalin. Now what’s all this about spying?” Arthur steps past him into the house as though he has the right. As though it’s his house, and Nalin is guest or worst yet just one of the servants. This is most likely why Aahan doesn’t like to deal with Arthur. It’s a terrible feeling.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Nalin says, stepping past him and into the sitting room.

“Are we going to have another chat about your paranoid delusions again? Those are always such fun!” Arthur settles down into Nalin’s armchair deliberately, and Nalin arranges himself on the sofa.

“I’m hardly the paranoid person between us. I’m not the one keeping a brother from his siblings.”

“I let you keep Aahan, didn’t I?”

“You are letting what amounts to a 14-year-old child live alone by himself. Udit should be here. With us. We are his family.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Like America was?” It’s a low blow, Nalin knows it even before he sees Arthur flinch, in how he looks at him with a hurt expression before he replaces that behind cold indifference.

“Like America is,” Arthur corrects.

“I want them out,” Nalin says after one of the servants brings the tea tray, “Every last one of them.”

“And ‘they’ being…?” Arthur plays dumb and picks up a biscuit and waits for Nalin to pour his tea.

“The servants, keep up, Arthur, I know you’re not dim.”

Arthur scowls down at his teacup, “Is now really the time for you to be insulting me?”

“‘Now’ is always the perfect time. No time like the present, and whatever else.”

“We never should have taught you English.”

“You didn’t teach me anything,” Nalin corrects this time.

“Who will keep house if you’ve no servants?”

“I know how to keep a house clean. There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Arthur.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Arthur looks around the house, and shakes his head, “It’s simply not done.”

“I could hang myself with all that’s ‘simply not done’ in your quaint society. I am not an Englishman, Arthur. I know how to care for my brother and myself.” He hasn’t done it in many centuries, but it can’t be, won’t be too hard to figure out. “I want them gone by the end of the week.”

Arthur sips from his cup, “Honestly, we aren’t spying on you, you paranoid man.”

“End of the week,” Nalin says sweetly.


	4. Date Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akmal gets asked out on a date, so he goes to Keshini for help.
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Twitter drabble prompt, this time featuring one of Shilly’s favorite Akmal ships, Pakmano. Weird, right?
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/133841385688/date-advice)

“I need some help,” Akmal declared, as he stormed into Keshini’s hotel room.

Keshini slowly turned towards him, not the least bit fazed by her sibling’s sudden break-in. She was lazing about on the couch, watching a Bollywood movie–and most likely pointing out all its flaws and cheesy dialogue. “With…?”

Akmal took a seat beside his sister, face twisted. “You know that… Italy fellow?”

“Which one?”

“The mean one. The one that swears a lot.”

“Yes, why?” Keshini couldn’t help but feel a twinge of a smile coming on.

The large country beside her let out a deep sigh, and he began to blush. “We were talking. I’ve been getting to know him a bit more these past couple of weeks. I’ve… never had a European approach me with such friendliness before, let alone a brash one like him. He…”

“He?” Her smile was stretched across her face now.

“He asked me out on a date.”

“A date?” Keshini burst into obnoxious laughter, but it subsided when Akmal’s brow furrowed and his figure cringed. “Oh, my little Akmal-malli was asked on a date? I never thought I’d see the day! You’re so shy and quiet, I can’t even imagine you making small talk with that guy!”

“Oh, shut up!” Akmal’s face was crimson by now. “Listen, I just need some advice on what to wear and stuff. He asked me out to dinner at his capital. I’m scared I’ll fuck up and he’ll tattle on me to his stupid European friends and they’ll hate me even more then the world will hate me even more and…”

Keshini placed a finger on Akmal’s mouth. “Hush, Akmal. It’ll be easy. As long as you keep being you to him, he’ll eat you up.”

Akmal gulped. “Is that supposed to be sexual?”

“Aye…” The Sri Lankan sighed in exasperation. Obviously, she had a lot of work to do. “Well, first, you’ll look out of place in your shalwar. You’ll need to wear a suit, just like to world meetings…”

—

Keshini was back at her home now, and she couldn’t have been happier. Those stiff, drab New York hotel rooms made her want to vomit, with their out-of-style drapes and starch white sheets that made her skin crawl. Her house was where she belonged, where everything was in the right place, and where everything was the right color, the right style, the right—

There was a sharp knock at her door.

“I’m coming!” She shot up from her bed and ran to the door, and opened it up to see Akmal again. His hazel eyes were bright and shining, shedding their usual drooping darkness.

“Akmal-malli! What’s the occasion?” How’s the date? was what she wanted to ask, but she was worried Akmal might burst into tears and becoming a slobbery mess on her lap lamenting over how much he hated Europeans.

“Sister, we… the date… it went swimmingly.” Keshini wanted to burst out laughing at Akmal’s choice of language. She often wondered what went on in her little sibling’s head. Akmal blushed, his hands shaking. “He told me he loves me. He said he wanted to go on another date. It worked. Everything worked.”

Keshini was about to respond when a voracious bear hug enveloped her. She had remembered how warm and inviting Akmal’s hugs used to be when he was a child, but now they were much too tight and restricted her breathing. All she could do was pat him on the back until he let go. She coughed, a grin on her face. “I’m glad everything went well. You two make a cute couple.”

“Do we?” Akmal giggled. “Anyway, I wanted to call, but I figured I’d come to your house just for that hug, nahi? Well, the next date is at his house, and I’m wondering–”

“Already got you covered.” And Keshini rambled off once more, Akmal watching with intent and gleaming eyes.


	5. A Daily Outing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nalin takes Aahan and Udit out to town.
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a drabble prompt on Twitter. Hope you like it!
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/133841219138/a-daily-outing)

Bringing the children out was no easy feat. As a matter of fact, Nalin wanted to congratulate himself every time he brought them with him to an outing without major incident (which wasn’t often, unfortunately for him). Aahan was a feisty one, that child; no matter how shy or introverted he wanted to play himself up as, he always managed to find a way to pull a prank on Nalin or some other unfortunate soul nearby. Udit was no different, but at least he was more sly about it.

“Come along, come along,” Nalin mumbled to the two little beasts keeping his hands occupied with their own, at least attempting to rein them in before they go off and destroy something. The marketplace was packed with people, and even with human bodyguards surveying their every move, the children would somehow sneak past them and steal or prank.

Aahan fixed his eyes on something, and Nalin stifled a groan bubbling in the back of his throat. He felt a tug on his hand, and before he knew it the three of them were standing in front of a gargantuan fruit stand.

“I want a pomegranate!” Aahan squeaked, and Udit let go of Nalin’s hand before Nalin could respond to stand next to his sibling, eyes gleaming. The children looked up at their brother with plate-sized eyes, and Nalin shrugged, pulling out the amount of rupees he had in his back pocket.

Nalin was expecting to blink and something would go wrong, like Aahan and Udit running off with ten pomegranates each and the vendor bellowing out after them, or the pile of round red fruits being knocked down by one of the children. Instead, everything was still, and the vendor barked at Nalin to pay up because he was holding up the line. Nalin glared at his children, narrowing his eyes at them, but they merely stared up at him with puzzled expressions.

“So pay him, bhaibhai,” Udit mused.

He blinked, and handed the vendor the money, which led the vendor to nod and give Aahan and Udit permission to pick the fruits that they so liked. Both picked out plump and juicy ones, so at least, Nalin felt, his money was well spent. A smile creeped on Nalin’s normally placid face.

“Come along,” he repeated, and the children gleefully followed him down the stone path once more. Udit was munching on his fruit, marveling at the sights and sounds that seemed to overwhelm him, but he was not fazed. Aahan was intently focused on a man selling goats, and he pointed and yelled at Nalin for one, but Nalin shook his head, saying “no more goats, we already have too many.” It wasn’t Eid yet, anyway.

They joined hands once again, but Nalin felt that it wasn’t necessary to tether them. Instead, the hand holding felt natural. “What prompted you two to behave so well today, anyway?”

“We’re growing up. We’ve gotta stop acting like babies,” said Udit.

“I’m tired of you yelling at us,” Aahan grumbled.

Nalin’s smile grew even bigger, until it reached ear to ear. It was true, his children were growing. Much slower than human children, but their minds were maturing much faster than their tiny bodies. And he was proud of that. He hadn’t felt this kind of pride for his little siblings in a very long time. He relished the moment as the three padded down to the center of the marketplace.

 


	6. Smoke Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emran needs a smoke. So does Nalin. Awkwardness ensues.
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sort of continuation of Home is Where the Heart Lives.

It had been a few days since Nalin had awoken from his coma. The world watched in eagerness for the safe return of Nalin to his countrymen. Emran in particular was quite worried for the well being of his brother, despite not allowing himself to show it.  Emran was a conservative young man who rarely showed his true feelings to others, for fear of embarrassing himself. At least, that’s what he believed. And no one truly questioned Emran’s placid disposition–even when a small celebration had been thrown for Nalin when he returned to the regular world meeting schedule, and Emran didn’t even bat an eye. His siblings were ecstatic, but it appeared that Emran was the odd one out yet again.

He took a drag from his cigarette. His brow furrowed; he hated becoming all self-exploring like this. He took cigarette breaks to clear his mind, not fog it up even more. But he assumed it was what came with the territory of having such a big event come into play like that–something that rarely, if ever, happened to nations, with no warning. A thriving, successful nation, not a nation torn up with instability and chaos and sorrow. Emran wondered if the exact same thing would happen to him next time, only he wouldn’t wake up–

“Mind if I join you?” A familiar voice interrupted him from his thoughts. Somehow, even though he recognized the voice, he welcomed it. Emran nodded.

Nalin stood up straight next to his little brother, and fished out a carton of Marlboros from his back pocket. It looked as if he tried to fish for something else, but came up short. “Bah, it seems I’ve forgotten my lighter.” He lightly gestured towards Emran, and so Emran shrugged and handed him his lighter.

As soon as Nalin lit up, he took the cigarette from his mouth and turned to Emran. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine, thanks.” And that was all Emran wanted to say to Nalin, until Nalin beckoned him more.

“You’re reminding me of Akmal right now,” he chuckled. “No eye contact, few words–”

Emran turned to face Nalin, “do not ever compare me to him, thank you.”

Nalin put his hands up, and continued to smoke. “Fine, fine. I was just saying.”

An awkward silence cut through the air. It was thick and choking, and Emran thought for a moment that he’d rather breathe the fumes of his cigarette than continue to breathe the air around him. Emran wished that Nalin would just go away. But his brother wouldn’t budge.

Nalin finally sliced the silence with a quip. “I imagine this situation was hard on you. I don’t blame you for wanting to step out.”

Emran didn’t reply. He took another drag and continued to face the parking lot. What possessed Nalin into asking him so many questions, let alone coming up to him and asking him for a cigarette? For a heartbeat Emran believed the coma changed Nalin in some way, but he shook that thought away.

“I really care for you, you know,” Nalin began, “and seeing you like this does bum me out. If you need to talk about it, I’m always here.”

The Bangladeshi pursed his lips.

“You’re still my little brother.”

“Why did you have to go and worry everyone like that?” Emran finally burst out, dropping his cigarette from his mouth. “What the hell happened to you?”

Nalin blinked slowly. “I don’t know. You know I wouldn’t worry you all on purpose.”

Nalin’s dismissive tone made Emran fume. He shook the rage away, but he couldn’t shake the sudden burst of caring he had for his elder brother. “You scared the hell out of us, and now you’re celebrating like it was something to be celebrated.”

“I’m happy I’m alive,” Nalin conceded, “and it’s obvious that you’re happy I’m alive, too.”

Emran wanted to strangle Nalin, but a twinge kept him from doing so. He stomped on his cigarette and turned to the taller figure, eyes once ablaze for a few moments, now glistening. “You had me worried sick, man.”

And Nalin bowed his head, surrendering to Emran. He let Emran chew him out for a couple of minutes, and neither cared that a few nations had peered around the door to see what was going on. Once Emran was finished, he was panting from raising his voice for the first time in ages. All his emotions were bottled up, and once he let them free, they thrashed and pummeled like a tsunami. Something inside him pulled him towards Nalin, and before he knew it, he was hugging his brother. Making physical contact for the first time since eons, he recollected. He wasn’t crying, as no tears would come out, but his body heaved, as though they were dry sobs. Nalin hugged him back, tightly.

Once they broke the hug, Emran refused to talk again. He managed to bum another cigarette off Nalin without saying a word, and together the two brothers smoked next to each other in a more peaceful silence.


	7. Prompt: I always listen to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nalin pleads for understanding. 
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/126707576013/prompt-7-i-always-listen-to-you)
> 
> This is taken from Patience, We Will Move On Soon.

“Please,” Nalin begged, “for once, please just listen to me, Udit. Haven’t you done enough damage as it is?”

“I always listen to you!” Udit shouted, and fought against Nalin’s hands on his thin shoulders, “Why should you take the fall for me? Why should we give you up to them? That makes no sense when it was all me.”

“Because I am the oldest, because this is my fight–”

“It’s our fight–I won’t just let you give yourself up for me. That’s not fair. You can’t ask that of me, Nalin.”

“I’m not asking you.” Nalin let go of his shoulders, “I’m telling you as your older brother how things will be. When they come, you and Aahan will hide yourselves. Do this for me, Udit. Please.”

‘They’ were the soldiers, the English, seeking revenge for the rebellion that had been kicked off. Udit wanted to say no, but the look on Nalin’s face was too serious for him to deny.

“Okay,” he said softly, and listened once more, and did what he was told.


	8. prompt #4: are they related to you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England wants to know who Udit and Aahan are. 
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH boy. 
> 
> Taken from a scene in Patience. 
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/126707439528/prompt-4-are-they-related-to-you)

For once, Nalin didn’t scold the two boys for running around while company was present. England was no one he needed to impress. He poured them both some tea, and the white man’s translator stood ready. His own was just for show. He knew English, had forced himself to learn it or else suffer in the deals.

England looked at the two boys with an odd expression, and then asked, “Are they related to you?” Nalin waited on the translators to do their things, as he looked at the misbehaving boys with something like fondness and annoyance. Fondness because they were his and he cared for them, and annoyance because that’s what little brothers were good for. Also, he was sure they had just broken a vase if the muffled crash was anything to go on.

He settled on saying, “They are mines so does being related matter? But yes, they are my brothers by blood.”

England nodded as the translator spoke, “Then you are lucky. I am the youngest brother myself.”

He had remarks, he had comments, but he held his tongue, and smiled before delivering the least offensive, “Then you cannot hope to understand the pain of an elder brother.”

“I understand well enough. I have taken care of several small boys myself.”

Stolen, Nalin thought, stolen them was more likely than not. He was not blind to what happened in the wake of England’s progressive march across his lands, was not blind to the rest of the world. Had heard tales before. But, he said simply, “That cannot stand to raising your own blood. It’s not quite the same.”

“Bhai!” Udit said, “Aahan broke something!”

“I did not!” Aahan swore. Both boys didn’t seem to care that he was in a talk with England, and he knew he should discipline them for the disrespect, but he didn’t care. Aahan was hanging back though, still scared as ever of the green eyed monster as he deemed England.

“Pardon me,” Nalin said.

“Please, attend to your brothers. I know how children are.”

So Nalin did, and showed, he thought, England how to properly care for children and the difference blood connection made.


	9. Prompt #10: Can you answer my questions?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Udit and Aahan want answers, Arthur has none he's willing to share. 
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another drabble taking place during the timeline of Patience, post Nalin’s death. I still can’t bring myself to write his actual death scene. Why did I headcanon him dying at this time lol? I mean it makes sense but it hurts to think about/write.
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/138904061398/prompt-number-10-can-you-answer-my-questions)

Nalin and Udit had another argument, and then Nalin left with the soldiers who invaded their home. Days passed without word from Nalin or anyone, and when someone finally came for them, it was the green-eyed devil who had frightened Aahan for years and years. Udit was shaken, but he spoke for both of them.

“Where’s Nalin?” Udit asked the translators. It took a moment, but the message got through.

“Dead,” Britain said. Aahan felt something shift and change as Udit took a step back.

“What do you mean dead?” Aahan demanded, he glared at the translators as if they held the answers, “Nalin…” His brother wasn’t so easily brought down. Nalin never flinched. Never wavered. He was as unchanging as the mountains. He was too stubborn to die. But Nalin had looked so tired when he left with the soldiers that day…but even still, Nalin couldn’t be dead.

“I mean dead. As in he breathes no more. I will be taking care of the both of you now. Won’t do to let two young boys continue running about unsupervised.” Britain almost sounded apologetic as he spoke. “Now then, boys, can _you_ answer my questions?”

It was then that Aahan realized that was only a front. He wasn’t as sorry as he sounded.

“What did you do to Nalin?” Udit asked before he could.

“Nothing.” He answered too fast, and the translators translated just as fast. “ _I_ didn’t do anything to your brother.”

Aahan spoke next: “Wh-what did your men do to him?”

Britain focused on Aahan for an uncomfortably long moment, before finally saying in a soft voice, “Nothing.”


	10. prompt #6: who invited you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coda to: Home is Where the Heart is
> 
>  
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/126709523063/prompt-6-who-invited-you)

Akmal finally got away from his family and headed out in the hallway to clear his head. They weren’t too much all the time, but in the wake and shock of Nalin waking up it was too much. He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should even stay at this point. So much was different now, but he held onto the fact that Nalin had wished him a Happy Birthday, and that he was awake.

And then he saw a hated figure walking up the hallway.

“Who invited you?” he asked, and didn’t care how rude it sounded.

“I invited myself,” America, once one of Pakistan’s greatest friends, and now no longer that, said. “I heard about what happened to India and thought I should show some support.”

“Support shown, get out.”

“Geez man, you don’t have to be like that,” America said, “I’m being sincere here.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word sincere.”

“Akmal? What are you doing?” Keshini stepped outside, and took in America. “Well, this is a surprise.” And that was because he, America that was, hadn’t been on the list of people they’d called about Nalin. The bastard was just here to check up on his investments. Akmal wanted to hit him.

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” America said, “How is he?”

“He’s fine. He’s awake and being Nalin,” Keshini said, “I’ll ask him if he’s up to seeing you.”

She did that, and he and America glared at each other.

“Listen,” America said, “I didn’t come here for a fight. I came to check in on your brother.”

“A phone call would have been enough.”

“You’re such an asshole,” America said. And honestly, Akmal knew that about himself, but he also knew that America didn’t think that about himself at all. His anger and hate were justified.


	11. First Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akmal’s first true memory of his distant brother, Tashi.
> 
>  
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another Twitter prompt. This one was fun to write. Enjoy!
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/133841819783/first-memory)

It had been snowing heavily up in Tashi’s capital, and Nalin wondered if bringing Aahan along would even be considered a good idea. The little one could catch an illness on the trip there, or so old wives had told him. But Nalin considered it imperative for Aahan to meet his elder siblings, for should he ever become a nation, he acknowledge that they’re no threat to him. Seeing Tashi again wasn’t a bad thing, either.

He had slightly wished that Aahan was still like Arya, or at least quiet, like Udit. The toddler that struggled in his arms wouldn’t stop barking about how cold he was. He held him tighter, both to cease Aahan’s constant kicks to his stomach and to radiate him with what little body heat he had. In this moment, Nalin couldn’t wait to get to Tashi’s house.

When they finally arrived, which seemed like it had taken forever, Nalin set Aahan down and greeted Tashi with a hug. It was a delight to see his brother again, and in the moment, it was even more delightful to be inside a warm home, away from the chill. Aahan appeared to be pleased with the warmth as well, no longer screaming and complaining.

“I assume he’s glad you two are finally here,” Tashi mused, remarking on Aahan’s sudden sleepiness.

Nalin’s expression twisted into a grin when he saw Aahan nodding off, and patted him to wake him up. “Very much so.”

Aahan shook his tiny head and looked up at the bald one that was gazing down at him. “Who are you?”

Tashi burst into laughter and clapped his hands together. “He doesn’t remember me! Of course!” He knelt down towards the child, who flinched, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “My name is Tashi. I met you when you were very small–smaller than you are now. I am your brother.”

“But you look nothing like us,” Aahan frowned.  
  
The two elder brothers nodded in knowing, as if they agreed with Aahan. “We are nations, dear Aahan. Kin can look different than kin, because we are related in ways that differ from humans.” Tashi explained.

Nalin lightly punched Tashi on the arm. “He’s too young to understand all that.”

And Tashi laughed. “It’s a long story, dear Aahan. I’m sure Nalin will explain when you’re older.”

“No, I get it,” Aahan was gazing with imploring eyes, which were glassy, as he obviously did not get it. His stomach growled. “Bhaibhai, I’m hungry.”  
“Well, there goes that.” Tashi’s shoulders bounced up and down in his rumbling laughter. “Come, I’ll make you some red rice. How does that sound?”

Aahan toddled after him to the kitchen. “How can rice be red?”

Nalin looked on as Tashi began to prepare the dish, showing Aahan all the different ingredients and being gentle when Aahan got too close or tried to eat them. He admired the nature of his brother, and didn’t want to think about when they had to leave. He wished they could stay with Tashi forever.

 


	12. That’s A Large Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afia goes on a walk through the mountains, when she comes across something strange.
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Tumblr prompt. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/133842131588/thats-a-large-cat)

Afia regularly made treks through the mountainsides of her northern territory, when the constant accretion of chaos and violence had seemed to cease for a moment, and she could take a breath. Her head needed clearing sometimes. The crisp air of the high altitudes was an absolute delight to breathe instead of the fumes of decrepit, Soviet-manufactured assault rifles. She adored the colors, the clean whites, the deep greens, the slate blacks and greys and browns that filled her tired eyes with new light. She adored it all. Her passion was nature. But in recent days she could never find the time or energy to appreciate it and–

_Snap!_

What was that?

Afia narrowed her eyes, desperately trying to find the source of the noise. She was alone on her journey, with nothing but a small pack filled with necessary supplies; no cell phone (there was no service in the Afghan mountainside, anyway) and no way to contact anyone else. Was it rogue mercenaries sent to try and harm her? Her paranoia spiked, and she braced herself.

“Hello?”

Out slithered a grey figure, its crisp coat matted with splotches. Its long tail dragged along as it padded towards Afia, blue eyes clear and concisely fixed on its prey. Afia made sure to stand still, for fear the creature would not attack and sink its fangs into her throat. Would the animal even be able to harm her? She had never been mauled by an animal before. For a moment, she was curious, when the creature padded faster towards her. Her muscles ached from the tension, and she crossed her arms across her face. She was greeted with the gentle rubbing of soft fur against her shirt.

“Huh?” The snow leopard was curled around her, rubbing and pushing up against her, slightly knocking her aside every now and again. This fearsome creature was stuff of legend in Afia’s country; a majestic beast that was so rare and endangered local villagers regarded it as mythical. And now, it was rumbling with its eyes and mouth pursed shut. Afia couldn’t help but smile, and she slowly reached to touch it. It made a satisfied noise when she pet it. “You’re just like a large cat, aren’t you?”

Afia pet it more for a few minutes, appreciating the warmth of its body enveloping her. Was this a bond? “Do you want to come home with me?”

The snow leopard opened its eyes and looked straight up at her, as if begging for her to take it in. How uncharacteristic! thought Afia, but she obliged. “Come along, then,” she beckoned the snow leopard with her hand, and it slowly walked along with her, “take a walk with me.”

 


	13. Empathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akmal’s most definable trait is his hospitality, despite Afia wanting nothing of it.
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Twitter prompt. I wanted to write about one of Akmal’s more positive traits, so I chose his need to help people, even people he doesn’t like.
> 
>  
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/133842028358/empathy)

“You’re taking in more?”

Afia held a towel to her gut, which was still oozing blood from a blow, while Akmal fetched proper medical supplies from a closet. He gathered sutures and staples–cheap ones, as that’s about as much money his bosses gave him to buy some–and crouched next to his sister, who was draped on his sofa, staining it with crimson.

“You and I both know it’s what God commands one to do,” Akmal’s eyes were fixated on the wound, slapping Afia’s hand away as he cleaned it thoroughly. “It’s only right.”

Afia seethed. “You can’t handle more refugees,” she lamented, clenching her fists as Akmal dabbed rubbing alcohol on the tear in her stomach.

“I will take in as many as my bosses see fit,” Akmal replied. “And more.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she could sit through the pain, with gritted teeth albeit, but Akmal’s stupidity was too much to bear. She did not shift, though, for fear of making the wound bleed again. Afia lay there while Akmal sutured the wound shut, not making a sound. Her gaze was boring into Akmal like a pair of drills.

Akmal finally looked up at his sister. “I’m doing this because I care for your the livelihood of your people. I will not let women and children perish by the hands of hunger and disease… or Soviets.”

“He’ll come for you.” She warned, and she tipped her head back, her voice shaking.

“Ivan does not want me. He wants you,” Akmal reminded her, “and that’s why I’m doing this.”

Afia snarled. “Why must you put yourself in danger like this?”

“I am in no danger. You are, however.”

And Akmal put the supplies away, turning to the kitchen. “You must eat if you want your body to recover faster.” His glassy eyes were fixed on all but her, Afia noticed. Akmal had always had this problem of not being able to make eye contact with people. Not even in important situations like this.

Afia felt her eyes blurring with tears. “How many are you taking in right now?”

“There are two million currently,” he stated matter-of-factly, “and a hundred thousand more to come in.” Afia could sense Akmal wince when she choked, writhing and desiring to get up and choke the bastard. She could not understand why the tears came so fast, and so hard.  
“Why are you doing this if you hate me so much?” was her final question, before turning silent.

Akmal stared out a nearby window, eyes tracking a bird circling through trees.

“Because you don’t deserve to suffer, dear sister. Even if I do hate you.”


	14. We’ll Save the Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nalin hopes he still has something left.
> 
> Author: Shilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Tumblr prompt. Really struggled with this one!
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/133842331823/well-save-the-art)

_Where has it all gone?_

His house looked naked. The bare bones of it all were exposed. There was no more gold, no more silver, no more red or purple or simply any color left to his home. This was Nalin’s punishment for his people rebelling–or as Arthur put it, disobeying–against the white man’s.

_This is the position I’m in._

He scanned his house for any remnant of color that was left. He wondered where all the art, the decor, where it all went. Had it been sold to wealthy auctioneers for unobtainable sums of money? Had Arthur simply kept it for himself in the comfort of his own home?  
  
I want it all back.

He checked every nook and crevice around his house–even places where art couldn’t even be found previously–just for a remnant of something.

But it was all gone.

He checked the underside of his bed, which normally had luxurious, sparkling golden sheets, but were replaced with a drab white. All the paintings and decor were still stripped from his walls, and his shoulders gave. He peered under the bed, and what he saw made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

There was still one left.

Nalin pulled the small frame out from under his bed. It was a painting of Akbar, with Nalin in the corner, and small Aahan, Udit and Arya with him. The colors were magnificent: bright greens and golds that his eyes were deprived of, now drinking in. He hugged it close to his chest, not caring that his body couldn’t keep still and his eyes were pouring tears. He remembered this painting, the commissioner’s enthusiasm to paint ‘such wonderful beings with the Emperor himself,’ recreating a moment that Nalin cherished so deeply. The painting, in all its colors, its sights, its smells, was memories.

He stood up with the painting in hand. It beamed a sort of bright light with its gold frame against the colorless walls. His body heaved in a sob, and he held it out in front of him.

“I’ll get it all back,” Nalin promised to the painting. Akbar, himself, Udit, Aahan, Arya, all seemed to stare back at him.

“I’ll get it back.”


	15. Shopping Misadventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keshini takes Emran and Akmal shopping. 
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here. ](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/130986155908/shopping-misadventures)

“It’s not like it’s going to kill you to look nice,” Keshini said, and Emran groaned. 

“Your idea of ‘look nice’ is a full outfit, custom-made. There’s nothing wrong with how I dress.”

“You dress like a hobo.”

“…that is an insult to both me and my people—”

“How old is this? It never fit you right and it certainly doesn’t now. Especially in your shoulders.” Keshini was currently going through Emran’s closet and tossing out things she found too old to be worn any longer. “Your entire wardrobe is lacking. We are going shopping. Clear your schedule for this weekend.”

“The whole weekend?” He looked at most of his clothes on the floor and grumbled about how he would be the one picking them up.

“The whole weekend.”

 

That weekend saw him meeting up with Keshini at her home. To his surprise and slight annoyance, Akmal was there as well, standing out front and waiting. He slowed his steps, and then stopped completely as he reached the pathway to her house. Stray cats and dogs were all around as he looked at his taller brother, and sighed.

“What’s he doing here?” he demanded when Keshini came out of the house.

She adjusted her sunglasses on her face, and with a flick of her wrist directed them to her small truck. “What else would he be doing here but to go shopping with us?” She asked like it was obvious, and maybe in her world it was, but it wasn’t in Emran’s.

Akmal wasn’t quite his enemy (anymore), but he wasn’t someone Emran willingly spent a lot of time with, at least not in recent decades. He couldn’t help his frown when Akmal got the window seat.

“If you keep your face like that, it’ll freeze,” Keshini jokingly warned.

“Yeah, yeah, ammi.” Emran glared over at Akmal who was hugging the window like he was queasy. Keshini’s driving was bad, but it had nothing on Nalin’s.

They arrived at Keshini’s tailor, like he knew they would, and unloaded. Keshini went in to talk to the owner and left him standing outside and waiting with Akmal.

“She got to you, too, huh?” he asked, and he tried to soften his look.

Akmal shrugged. “Did she dump out your entire closet too, man?”

Emran made a noise of agreement, and then said, “I had to spend two days fixing her mess.”

“She’s like that, you know?” Akmal said. And at least Keshini was neutral ground. At least they were able to talk about her without bringing up past mistakes and heartaches.

“Who’s like what?” Keshini asked. “Emran, you first.”

The tailor took all of his measurements and didn’t comment on his binder, just asked him to take it off for a moment and took those measurements as well. On and off, and then he was back outside.

“She’s taking us to another shop too,” Akmal grumbled.

“Only the best for my siblings. Can’t have the international community continuing to look down on us!” Keshini declared. Akmal groaned and let himself be led away by the tailor who said something like, “Very tall.”

“Why are we with Akmal?” Emran asked.

“His clothes were in the same sorry state as yours,” Keshini said, and she sounded like a disapproving mother tired of her children’s worn-down clothing. “Good clothes make your soul feel right.”

“You sounded like Nalin just then.”

She shuddered. “Don’t say that!”

“What should I say? Who cares about fashion and all that—”

“I do,” Keshini said. “I care a lot about it, and it’s for that reason why I’m not going to let my siblings walk around like you have been.”

“Because the international community will look down on us? Sister, they already d—”

“Well, we’re not going to add fuel to the fire, now are we?” she demanded.

Emran knew when he was beat, so he grumbled out a “no, ma’am” and left it at that.

Akmal came back then. “She’s very… thorough,” he muttered. Emran sniggered.

After the second shop, he found he was starting to enjoy himself. Keshini asked Akmal about some poet, and they were off gossiping. It was rare that he saw Akmal talking this much, so he was a bit surprised. He played on his DS some while he waited for them to pick out colors at the third store, and he found that the day had a gentle kind of happiness to it.


	16. Dance the Night Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nalin wasn’t expecting company quite this soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/130983698583/dance-the-night-away).

 

He turned on his iPod and took the first step. Another step and he was flowing with the music. He was in the zone, twisting this way and that, stroking his chest, and flashing his rings as he twirled around the room to the beat of the drums, stepping to the light and right to the strumming of the guitar, and when the beautiful singer cried out, he did the same.

It should have been obvious that he was making way too much noise, but he had alcohol in his system and a beautiful woman in his head.

“What the hell is he doing?”

“…ritual sacrifice?”

He turned to the two intruders in the doorway. Leon and Yao. He had been expecting them – hours from now. Not right now. Not in the safety of his living room.

He was on the floor after having performed an excellent split, thank you very much, and he slowly got up, face aflame, glaring at them.

“Have you not heard of knocking?”

“I have a key,” Yao said, and honestly, why did he again? Nalin was struggling to remember why he’d thought that’d be a good idea as he tugged at his shirt and tried to cover up his boxers. Honestly, they weren’t due until seven!

“For emergencies only.”

“We thought it was an emergency. Apparently what is singing to you sounds like brutal death to us,” Leon snarked.

Nalin stood exasperated behind the couch and waved a hand at them. “Leave.”

“We just got here,” Yao complained. “And it’s not our fault you were in here dancing to Lady Ga—”

“Shut up,” Nalin shouted, “and get out of my house!”

Leon sat down on the armchair and pulled out his phone.

“If you take a photo, I swear—”

“I recorded a video, bro. Uploading it to YT now.”

Nalin could see his shame already, could see it so clearly laid out before him. “What do you want?”

Yao and Leon shared a look, and Leon grinned. “Well… since you’ve asked so nicely…”

Looking at the two, Nalin knew that the price would be steep. But it was one he was willing to pay.

 


	17. Prompt: Stop sending me weird stuff w/Emran specifically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emran just wants to play Animal Crossing: New Leaf, okay? Okay.
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon specifically requested this with Emran, but didn’t say who they wanted it to be who said it to him. Sooooo :3c I hope you enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://aphsouthasia.tumblr.com/post/139636132888/for-the-prompt-set-can-we-get-stop-sending-me)

“Alright, seriously, stop sending me weird stuff.”

Emran looked up from his 3DS and stared for a long moment at Akmal from his spot up against the wall of the meeting room. America or Germany had called a break in the meeting and Emran was taking full advantage of that to play his games. Akmal just shifted, and looked down uncomfortably at Emran. There was a long moment of silence between them before Emran said, “What on earth are you talking about?” Akmal just looked at him, completely done as it were, while Emran turned back to picking and replanting flowers on his game.

“You know…those…things you keep on sending me.”

“You’re going to need to be more specific.” Coco came up and started talking to Emran, so he held up a hand before Akmal could say anything, “And don’t just say ‘you know’ cuz obviously I don’t.”

“The…pictures, man,” Akmal said, and when Emran looked up he could tell that Akmal was blushing.

“Okay, that’s a bit more specific.”

“Of…the…goats,” Akmal finally said when Emran said nothing further. “To my phone.”

“Goats.” Emran looked up and then down at his 3DS as one of the goats on his game walked up to him. He closed his 3Ds, “Pictures of goats.”

“Yes,” Akmal looked relieved until Emran said, “You think I’m texting you pictures of goats?”

“Not so loud!”

“I’m not being loud,” Emran said after a moment, “I’m just asking the important questions here. What are said goats doing that they’re so traumatizing to you? You like goats, Pakistan.”

“I do not.”

Emran just looked at him until Akmal amended his statement, “Okay, I do but that’s not the point.”

“The point being…that I’m sending you troubling images of goats.”

“Yes.”

“Pakistan,” Emran said, and stood up. Akmal backed up somewhat, and looked embarrassed. Emran was now fully enjoying himself. “I haven’t had my phone in three hours.”

“What?” Akmal looked startled. “But Em–Bangladesh,” he corrected at Emran’s glare, “these texts came from you.”

“Well yes, because I loaned my phone to Afia before the meeting started.”

“What.”

“Afia’s texting you goat porn.”

“It’s not p-it’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re making this an issue when it doesn’t need to be.”

Akmal groaned and fished out his phone and showed him a photo of a goat stuck on a ledge, holding on by just its tongue, with the caption reading _This is you_. Afia was getting rusty, Emran couldn’t help but to think.

“Is that it?”

“It’s this and more, my phone has been buzzing like crazy since the meeting started!”

“Goat pictures,” Emran sat back down on the floor, as Akmal pocketed his phone, “You’ll live.”

“Bangladesh!”

“You’ll live.”


	18. Prompt: I'm older than you think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nalin just came here to dance. 
> 
> Author: Sammya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man there were so many possibilities for this one. But at my heart I am the original APH India fan™ so here we go.

The music was in Nalin’s bones, and called to him like things rarely did. He felt at home, alive, on fire. It was escapism of course, but he had lived all his life running and just because now he was more steady, more centered didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep running occasionally. Sometimes it was necessary in this chaotic world to draw back from it all and just dance.

So he did.

He danced with whoever would come into his orbit, drawn in by his swaying hips, and twisting arms. The music shimmered and hovered in the air around him, almost caressing his bare brown arms. The DJ seemed like he was playing songs only for Nalin, ones that kept him out on the dance floor. They were in sync, and he danced and flowed for hours like that. Partners came and partners went, and still he danced until it was closer to closing time than not. People were starting to pair off and leave, and yet oddly enough Nalin didn’t feel anything within him calling or yearning to do that. He was content with just dancing for now.

Someone, a man, put their hands on Nalin’s hips, and he grinded against him as the music shifted. It didn’t matter who he was, it didn’t matter who any of them were, not really. They were his; his people, his countrymen, the blood in his vines. The very reason he was still alive, still here was because of them. So in that sense, they were all beautiful to him, all special, all unique, all attractive in their own right.

“Can I buy you a drink?” the man asked, and Nalin barely glanced up at his face before agreeing to it. They stepped off the dance floor, and headed to the bar, but Nalin’s eyes were back on the floor where his people were alive and dancing and most of all happy. That was where he belonged, amongst them as close to them as he could be.

“What will you have?” the man–what was his name–asked. Nalin privately decided he looked like a Balan and started thinking of him that way.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Nalin said, because he didn’t really want to drink, he wanted to dance, and he tended to lose his coordination once he’s had one too many. So something hard to get him started, and then he’ll slow down for the rest of the night. It’s this first rush that’ll really get him buzzed.

“Alright,” the man, Balan, said agreeably. And then he had to ruin it by speaking further, “Sure that’s what you want? Awfully strong for such a young, tiny guy like yourself.”

Nalin really looked at him this time, made a show of it as he held his tongue for a moment. Balan was bigger than him for sure, but Nalin knew that if it came down to it he had speed on his side, and due to being what he was, however slight he was, he was stronger than the average human. And the age thing, well, he was over several thousand years old. He was silent as he thought that over and accepted his drink from the bartender. He made a show of studying it, before saying, “Trust me, love, I’m older than you think. And stronger to boot.”

“Love? My name is–”

“I don’t care,” Nalin said, and tossed back most of the whiskey before settling the remainder on the counter, “but thanks for the drink.”

Tonight wasn’t about finding a partner persay, but about dancing and enjoying himself. He didn’t need anyone who was going to try and ruin his mood. That in mind he headed back to the dance floor.


	19. Prompt: You could still live.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keshini and Sana talk on the phone. 
> 
> Written by Sammya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set during some vague point during sri lanka’s civil war era.

“I still can’t come over?” Sana sounded disappointed on the phone, but Keshini was used to that by now. It didn’t hurt her as much to disappoint her sister like it had in the past. Hadn’t she been disappointing everyone for a long while yet? This was what happened when you fell apart internally. This is what was left. 

“Sorry, it’s just a mess over here.” A small lie, but one that she would live with. Better that Sana be shielded from this, better that she not know the entire truth. That was what Keshini told herself at any rate. She was protecting her sister. 

Sana was silent, and the silence echoed and turned into crackles of static. 

“You know…” Sana said, and then was silent again, “You could still live. There’s no reason why you can’t live your life and forget about it all every now and again.”

“I can’t,” Keshini said, “We’re not made like that. I can’t just ignore this.”

“I’m not saying to ignore it. I’m saying that it shouldn’t be consuming you like this.” 

“What should it be doing instead if not consuming me?” Keshini hated to take this tone with Sana, but it was like her sister just didn’t understand what it was like. “You can’t understand what this is like, Sana.” 

“But I can understand you, Keshini,” Sana said quietly, “I know you, and you can’t go on like this much longer. If you won’t let me come to you, then come to me? You need to get away for a bit, clear your head.”

“I can’t just abandon my people, Sana.” No matter how tempting the offer was, she couldn’t just leave. 

“No one is asking you to,” Sana said, “but you really have got to take care of yourself or else what good will you be to them? Your people need you and you need them, and I get that, honest I do. But...Keshini, you don’t belong solely to them, you know? You belong to yourself too, and you have to take care of yourself.” 

“I am taking care of myself,” Keshini said, “But I hear you, all right? I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Sana said after a small pause, “I guess that’s all I can ask.” 


End file.
